


Man or an Angel

by Silverlyte



Series: Silverlyte's Sabriel Oneshots [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Injured Sam Winchester, M/M, One Shot, Protective Gabriel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27804025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverlyte/pseuds/Silverlyte
Summary: Sometimes, Sam forgets.He forgets what Gabriel is. Forgets he is more than what he shows, more than how he acts.He forgets that before he was a trickster, before he was Loki or a janitor or the man who steals Dean's pies, and waggles his brows at Sam each time he suggestively wraps his lips around a lollipop-Before he was Gabe, the man who shares his bed, and kisses his brow when he’s drifting to sleep, before Sam knew him as laughter and warmth and a heartbeat beneath his head-Gabriel was an archangel. A warrior. A weapon.--- Aka Gabriel is a powerful archangel, and sometimes Sam forgets.
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Series: Silverlyte's Sabriel Oneshots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005450
Kudos: 149





	Man or an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> ~I do not own Supernatural nor any of its characters, I'm just borrowing them because Gabriel got bored. Do not translate or post to another site.~  
> Title inspired by the song "Man or a Monster" by Sam Tinnesz ft. Zayde Wolf

**Man or an Angel**

_Sometimes, Sam forgets.  
  
_

There is blood in his mouth when he looks up; it dribbles past his lips, speckles the cement beneath the spread of his palms. There's too much of it in his throat, on his tongue; thick and warm, the scent of iron clogging his nose.   
  


Iron and ozone.   
  


White, hot pain lances through his side with each breath he takes, burns brighter every time he chokes on them. It leaves him shuddering and shaking.   
  


His arms trembling with the effort of keeping himself held up. Though the sense of urgency that drove him onto his knees, the nagging instinct that if he wants to survive he needs to move, to move now, has since passed.   
  


_He forgets what Gabriel is. Forgets he is more than what he shows, more than how he acts.  
  
_

The air around him is tense, filled with an electricity that rouses the hairs on his arms and nape. It feels like it tastes - like the seconds trickling down into disaster. The moment before lightning strikes the ground, and destroys all in its wake.   
  


Except the disaster has already struck; this is but the aftershakes of it.   
  


_He forgets that before he was a trickster, before he was Loki or a janitor or the man who steals Dean's pies, and waggles his brows at Sam each time he suggestively wraps his lips around a lollipop-  
  
_

Gabriel’s wings are massive.   
  


They seem to crowd the warehouse with their size; three sets of frazzled, golden feathers.   
  


Four wings stretched out on to either side of them, while the tips of the other two brush against Sam’s back, his shoulders, his sides. Huddling in around him as though they intend to encase him entirely.   
  


A moment ago, they had.   
  


They're startling hot to the touch, even through his clothes.   
  


A part of him wants to lean into that heat, even as another part wants to cringe back. To make himself small and forgotten.   
  


_Before he was Gabe, the man who shares his bed, and kisses his brow when he’s drifting to sleep, before Sam knew him as laughter and warmth and a heartbeat beneath his head-  
  
_

Gabriel stands above him, as hard-faced and cold as steel, one of his hands held in the air.   
  


The snap of his fingers had been a shrill echo, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, crumbling all those in its path. Where there were once hundreds, nothing more than ashen piles remain.  
  


A whole nest of vampires gone in the blink of an eye.   
  


The bulbs above them had shattered along with them. Broken, jagged slivers of glass rained down, deafeningly loud as they clattered against the floor, but not a single piece lay anywhere near Sam.   
  


The wings had shielded him.   
  


Just as they'd shielded him from the burst of light that'd erupted through the room with Gabriel's snap. So vivid it'd reddened Sam's vision even through his lids.   
  


It lingers still, that light.   
  


The sole beacon in the darkness, shrunken down to hover above Gabriel's head. A halo brighter than any flame he’s ever seen, it paints his hair the same golden hue as his wings. 

  
Illuminates the taunt set of his jaw, the glow of his eyes, his mouth a thin line.   
  


_Gabriel was an archangel. A warrior. A weapon.  
  
_

_Sometimes, Sam forgets who Gabriel is._

  
When he gets a glimpse of the energy, vast and powerful, that he truly is; that is but merely concealed within a body that is small and squishy, and seemingly fragile at times.   
  


It both terrifies and awes him.   
  


It sends his heart skittering in his chest, his eyes wide because this - this being standing above him - is something great and dangerous, unflinching at the mass death he has just caused-

 _  
This_ is Gabriel, the fearsome archangel.   
  


Right up the moment those glowing eyes look at him; and then he’s just Gabe again.   
  


The man who pouts over candy, and draws mustaches on fruit.   
  


Whose muscles are always soft and compliant beneath the press of his hands; breath warm and smelling of chocolate, and riling goosebumps across his skin.  
  


Whose lips are gentle and bruising in turns. His pulse steady and present when Sam nestles against his chest.  
  


Whose grins are too wide at times, and eyes too distant and lost at others.   
  


Gabe who kneels next to him now, the unnatural blue dimming from his eyes until he blinks, and it's gone entirely. His touch gentle, barley there at all, when he cups his palm around the back of Sam's head. 

  
The sensation of grace is like static in Sam’s blood, an itching in his bones, so very warm and yet it makes him shiver.  
  


When he breathes in, this time, there’s no ache behind it.   
  


"Blood looks good on you, Samalam. Really brings out your eyes," There’s still a hardness in Gabe's gaze; it conflicts with the taunt of his words, the mischievous smile.   
  


He's afraid. Sam can feel it in the ginger stroke of his fingers against his hair. In the way his grace lingers far longer than is needed.   
  


_But he always remembers. Remembers that no matter what he is - who he is, is his Gabe.  
  
_

Sam doesn’t hug him so much as as he barrels into him, arms wrapping around his neck and his face getting burrowed against the crook of his throat. It's an awkward position, even on his knees, he's taller than a crouching Gabe, and there's probably blood smeared on his chin.   
  


But it doesn't matter. Sam presses shamelessly against him. 

  
Not out of fear of being lost. Not because of what might have happened tonight, if Gabe hadn't come for him.   
  


But because he does remember. Because Gabriel is _his_ , the man and the angel both, and he'll be damned if he ever lets himself forget.   
  


“Woah there, Sammy.” They don’t fall over but it’s a near thing, golden wings flaring out for balance before they draw in close around them. Smothering Sam in their heat. Caging him in, and locking out the world around them.   
  


Sam only holds on to him tighter, presses his mouth against the skin of his throat.   
  


He feels the moment in which all the tension seeps out of Gabe. Right before hesitant hands wrap around him, rubbing circles into his back. “Sam?”   
  


“I love you.” As fierce as they are, the words are muffled. Sam doesn’t care. All that matters is that they are heard. “All of you.” 

  
The hands slide further around him until there's arms, holding on just as tightly to Sam. 

  
“Well I’d hope the whole being married thing wasn't a sham.” Gabriel's voice comes out tired and relieved. He brushes his lips against Sam's forehead as he adds, in a mutter, "I love you too, Kiddo." 


End file.
